Page 56 of Forbidden Boss

We hit a garage on Huron next, following up on our next lead while Yuri sends men to the addresses the bar owner provided. As soon as we pull up to the garage, half the men square up to greet us. They all brandish their weapons, but the owner tells them to stand down when he sees who we are.

“Forgive my guys,” he says apologetically. “They’re so ready for a fight, they can’t turn it off when royalty shows up. What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

“You can tell me where the hell Marcus Sterling is,” I spit at him.

“Sterling?” he asks with faux confusion. “Sorry, pal, the name doesn’t ring a bell.”

A small twitch in his face betrays the lie. I turn to Yuri, who nods back at me.

“We really should take this in your office,” Yuri says to the man, but he doesn’t budge.

“Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of my guys,” he answers with all the charm of a snake oil salesman.

“Fine,” I say, pulling out my gun and shooting the ground two inches to the left of his foot.

He hops back, shouting, and his men go for their guns. Yuri and Pavel are quicker, though.

“I wouldn’t,” Yuri says before turning his attention to the owner. “You wanna tell them who we are? Or would you rather take this to your office?”

“Stand down,” he grunts to his men, and his tone must convey his fear, because they all holster their guns. “I haven’t seen Marcus in weeks. Last I heard, he was working on a big deal. But he did rent some warehouse space from me. I’ll get you the address.”

He goes to the front desk, grabs a piece of paper, and quickly scribbles an address with a shaky hand. He hands it to Yuri, who slips it into his jacket pocket.

“Thank you for your time,” Yuri says before grabbing me and pulling me toward the car.

“I know you’re worried, but you’ve gotta keep it in check,” Yuri reminds me in a low voice. “You can’t kill the next guy who says he doesn’t know anything. We don’t need more enemies.”

He’s right, and we both know it, but it changes nothing for me. I can and will kill the next man who can’t tell me where the hell Marcus is if it means I’ll find Mari faster. Or at the very least, if it’ll take the edge off my anger.

“We’ve got one more guy,” I remind him. “He’s a banker on Wall Street.”

We call ahead to the banker’s office, but his assistant says he hasn’t come in all week. She says he has the flu. I try to grease the wheels, but she refuses to give up his address.

“What did you say your name was?” she asks suspiciously, and I know she’s not going to be any help. The last thing I need is for her to call the cops.

“Thanks for your time,” I growl, hanging up the phone and resisting the urge to throw it out the window.

It hits me that Marcus did this on purpose. He picked people who would break easy, people who would give up information without much incentive. He’s setting traps for me.

“Where’s that address?” I ask Yuri. “The one the garage owner gave you.”

“It’s a place in Queens,” he answers, handing me the paper. “I can’t find any public records, but my gut is telling me it’s Kozlov territory. You sure you wanna take it that far?”

“We have to clear it,” I tell him. “Hunt down every lead. She could be there.”

“We’d better call in backup, just in case,” Yuri says, already on the phone to get a few teams to meet us there.

By the time we arrive, a dozen of my men are waiting, ready to move on my command. We split them. Half approach the west side of the building, while the other half goes in on the east side. I follow the second team. The loading bay smells like dust and old oil. Thom slides a mirror under the side door and shakes his head. He doesn’t see anyone, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe.

“On three,” I say.

We go in low, but the second we break down the door, tear gas curls out of a vent in a thin stream. It’s enough to disable us. Two figures pop out from behind a crate and start shooting. Thom drops one immediately. The other reaches for the shotgun on the crate. I take his knee and his throat.

We clear the warehouse and move room to room at a measured pace. No panic in my body. Panic serves no one. I hear shots from the catwalk and Yuri’s reply. One body hits metal and stays down.

We find an office upstairs with a single chair and a desk. On the chair is a printed note:

Nice try.